


Inside the Shadow Armor

by its_magic13



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Angst, Gen, I love Lord Vile stuff, So it’s probably time I wrote some of my own, Warnings and tags subject to change, and summaries, wow i suck at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_magic13/pseuds/its_magic13
Summary: Lord Vile is the most mysterious of Mevolent’s Three Generals. Where did he come from? Who was he before? How exactly did Skulduggery Pleasant become Lord Vile? And how did he come back?
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Skulduggery Pleasant sat cross-legged beside the dwindling fire. The other Dead Men were asleep; he was the only one awake. He was keeping watch, mainly because he no longer needed to sleep. He hated it. He hated the long nights spent staring out at nothing, having to be up all night, never resting, which, although it was not necessary, would have been nice. He hated the boredom and the loneliness of it. But most of all, Skulduggery hated the wasted time, the long hours they spent doing nothing when they could have been fighting. The others didn’t know. They didn’t understand. Skulduggery  _needed_ to fight. He  _needed_ the war, the battles, the feeling of power that it all gave him. It was the only thing that even began to take away the rage and the hate and the pain. 

He was merciless. Everyone said so, because it was true. There was no longer any room in Skulduggery’s mind or heart for any hesitation before the killing blow, any sort of regret or even a bit of speculation on whether what he was doing was going a bit too far. It worried people. But more than that, it made them afraid of him. It made him powerful. He liked that power. He wanted more. The only time, he reflected, as he watched the fire go out and didn’t attempt to relight it, that he had ever felt so much power, was in Prussia, a few months after he’d gotten married, when he’d picked up Auron Tenebrae’s dagger. A question rose, unbidden, into his mind. Was Necromancy the way to get what he wanted? He wanted to feel that raw, dark power again. He wanted to use it to fight. Skulduggery imagined shadows fashioning themselves into the sharpest of knives, to be launched at whomever he ordered. He imagined that rush of raging, untamed dark power he’d gotten from Tenebrae’s dagger. Skulduggery tilted his head back. If he’d had lips, he would have smiled. Another question rose to his mind. Wasn’t there a Necromancer Temple not too far from here?  Not yet , he told himself.  But soon .  Very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness, hopefully chapters to come will be longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m early!

Skulduggery made the decision on yet another night spent sitting alone beside a dying fire and resenting every moment of it. There was so much they could be doing! Granted, the others weren’t skeletons and needed their sleep, but couldn’t one of them keep watch while he did what needed to be done? Deep down, he knew he was being unfair, but he truly didn’t care. They were even closer to that Necromancer Temple then they were three nights ago... It would be so, so easy. All he had to do was make the choice, and then he would have that dark power at his disposal and he would never stop fighting. All he had to do was make that decision. One little word. _Yes_. He stood up.

“I need a full set of armor. I’m told you were the best?” The man nodded. “Yes. I am.”

“Good. I want it to be black.”

“All right.”

“How soon can you finish it?”

“I don’t know. Probably quite some time.” 

Skulduggery reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fistful of money. “And there’s more where that came from. How soon?” 

The man swallowed. “Two days.”

“I see. Do I have your assurance that this will be the best suit of armor you have ever created?”

“I-I suppose. What are you going to do with it?” The man began sorting and gathering pieces of black metal.

“I’m going to the Necromancers’ Temple.”

“You sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Skulduggery’s hands tightened into fists. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s really none of my business, but I’ve heard some pretty vile things about the Necromancers.”

“Vile, huh?” Skulduggery said, considering the words.

“Yes. Listen, pal, I don’t mind talking to you, but are you going to just stand here and watch me the whole time I’m making this or what? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not really, no, but I see your point. Two days, right?”

“Two days.”

Skulduggery left the shop behind and stepped out into the early morning sun. Once, the sun would have warmed his skin, the quiet morning would have cheered him up immensely, and he would have set off in search of breakfast. Now, he no longer felt the sun, his mood remained unchanged, a quiet, simmering rage, and he couldn’t have eaten a thing if he wanted to. He checked to make sure the scarf was wrapped tightly around his face, and then he went off to try to find something to do for the next two days.

He wound up playing poker with a couple of mortals in the back of an inn out of sheer boredom. He won. The prize was a skull, which he obviously already had, but Skulduggery supposed it would be nice to have a spare.

Skulduggery returned to the armorer’s once those two days were up. “Here you are,” the man said, “the best armor I’ve ever made to date. Fit for nobility, if I do say so myself.” Skulduggery considered the armor, taking in every little detail of each piece, the darkly beautiful etchings on the metal. “Nobility, huh?”

“Yeah, you know. Dukes and lords and things.”

“ I know what nobility is, thank you very much. It was a rhetorical “huh”, Mr- what’s your name?”

“Quicksilver. Honorius Quicksilver. What’s yours?”

Skulduggery Pleasant, he was about to say, but then he realized that wasn’t true. He wasn’t Skulduggery Pleasant, not anymore. So who was he? The armorer’s words replayed in his mind.

_“...I’ve heard some pretty vile things about the Necromancers...”_

_“...fit for nobility...dukes and lords and things...”_

“My name is Vile. Lord Vile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...that’s a little longer. I promise the chapters will get longer and probably better now that the backstory is done and he’s actually Lord Vile. Up next, the Necromancers’ Temple!   
> Let me know what you think, comments of all kinds are always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I haven’t updated this in forever. I could bore you with the whole story of writer’s block, and life, and this fic just completely slipping my mind, but I’m going to opt for a sincere apology and an update at long last. I’m really sorry, and here’s an update.

The knock was low and heavy and ominous and could only possibly be one person. Auron Tenebrae could barely contain himself. So. The day had finally come. Skulduggery Pleasant had finally come running back to Necromancy. Except, Tenebrae reminded himself, he wouldn’t be Skulduggery Pleasant anymore. He would most likely have taken a new name for this new self. Brimming with eagerness, but doing an impressive job of not showing it, Tenebrae opened the door. What greeted him there was a wondrous sight. A tall man, in black armor, the shadows already reaching out to him. “Who are you, and for what purpose have you come here?” Tenebrae asked. 

“My name is Lord Vile. I am here to learn Necromancy.” 

“What do you know about it?” 

“I know it’s death magic, and I know I definitely have the strength and power to do it. I’ve done it before.” 

“I see. So you’re hoping I can teach you. Why?” 

This question seemed to take Lord Vile by surprise. “What do you mean?” 

Tenebrae smiled. “What will you do with this power?”

“I need it to fight.” 

“Naturally. My Clerics will be eager to see you. Right this way.” Lord Vile stepped over the threshold of the Temple without a moment’s hesitation. 

——————————

“I tell you, he’s strong. Strong enough to be a candidate for the Death Bringer, if we train him properly,” Tenebrae said. 

“You say that like you know him,” Cleric Quiver said, eyebrows inching skyward. 

“The shadows are already drawn to him; it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Tenebrae responded in a carefully neutral tone. When the Clerics still failed to look convinced, Tenebrae gave them all a cold, thin smile. “Besides, I am the High Priest of this Temple, am I not? Is it, perhaps, conceivable I know things you do not?” It was his trump card, calling on his authority. It nearly always worked. It worked this time, anyway. Even if not all the Clerics looked convinced, per se, none of them seemed inclined to disagree. He smiled again. “It’s unanimous, then? Let’s go. Lord Vile awaits our verdict.” 

“The Clerics and I are in agreement,” Tenebrae said. 

Vile said nothing. It was slightly unnerving, Tenebrae pretended it wasn’t. “We will train you in Necromancy, Lord Vile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully we’ll get into Vile’s training sometime next week.


End file.
